I Wish There Were Words
by cognita-ergo-sum
Summary: every minute of every day I regret not just plucking up my courage and asking him, every day I wish it was me who was hugging him, kissing him, making love to him? -snarry-angsty-


I wish there were words

Disclaimer: I own nothing I am however owned by The original killerpineapple who received me as a birthday gift (read her fics!! Love you TOKp)

I Wish There Were Words

I wish there were words.

I wish there were words to describe him, his beauty, his soul.

I wish there were words to describe my love for him.

I wish I could tell him … but tell him what?

That I wish to spend every moment with him, that no-one can make me laugh like him and that every time I laugh I wish he were there to share the joy of the moment, that I wish everything for him even if it means nothing for me.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not totally selfless, every minute of every day I regret not just plucking up my courage and asking him, every day I wish it was me who was hugging him, kissing him, making love to him?

Is she making love to him? This question plagues me in sleep as much as in life, the thought makes me sick with jealousy, sick with shame, sick with loss.

If I hadn't been such a cowardly, gutless, _wanker_, everything could be different, but I am, and its not.

I have dreams, we would be together, we would be happy, there was never sex involved, he was never, what was once described to me as, a wank-fodder just perhaps a picnic or visit to the beach and we'd, for want of a better word, frolic then sit and eat, or just talk, share some kisses, I would have my head in his lap and, although I can't stand people playing with my hair, It's different with him, its soothing, so I let him.

Then eventually I would awaken and weep, not a few tears for knowing it can't be, I would weep for hours, miss morning classes, I would weep for love, for unrequited love, for everyone who may also be an unrequited lover, for shame of wishing her gone in moments of weakness, for my sheer pusillanimous-ness and more beside.

I wish I could make him happy.

I wish I was more selfish.

I wish a lot of things, but wishing is useless and unproductive.

I wish I could go out and do something useful and productive about it.

I wish I could go and tell him, whisk him away and live happily ever after, I wish I could do this without thinking of the consequences, the fact that I may not make him happy, the fact that she would hate me, the fact that I couldn't cope with her hating me, the possibility he would hate me too … the likelihood that he would hate me too, the crippling fact that he loves her more than he could ever love me.

To quote an intimidatingly intelligent man "besides you've been there yourself, you've been in love. Why am I getting so hysterical? Just about every film, every book, every poem, every song, is a love story. This is not a genre with which you are unfamiliar, even if by some fluke (whether a cursed fluke or a blessed one I would be the last to be able to decide) you have never been there yourself.

I wish I could describe love, but some of you may know that this is impossible.

Perhaps this may help.

If you have been in love, imagine what it would be like to never be with that person, if you have been a victim of unrequited love then no explanation is needed, however, if you have never been in love, I am afraid that no explanation can be provided, and finally if your not sure if you are in love then you're not, you know if you are in love, because nothing is ever the same again, everything becomes about them, he wouldn't like this jacket so I shan't buy it, he would hate this ornament so I must discard of it, he would love this wallpaper, I should redecorate on the off chance that he comes to visit and loves me that little bit more because I have the same taste as him, even if, before him, I thought it vile, I would now see its beauty, because he sees beauty in it.

This talk of unrequited love brings to mind a song named The Art Teacher. The most poignant line for me being "he asked us what our favourite work of art was, never could I tell him, it was him."

Has there ever been a suicide not so long? I don't care, I felt I had to get everything out, a fresh start, a fresh end. Goodbye Harry my love. I hope you never have to read this. I hope you never have to feel pain again. I'm so proud of you my angel, live happily.

Severus Tobias Snape

X

A/N wow okay that was a bit depressing. Umm this was my first proper fanfic so don't be too harsh, but all constructive criticism is as welcome as praise so please read and review and I shall give you a (figurative) hug in a mug XD. This Is meant to be a oneshot unless you want me to write a sequel about Harry tell me in a review please.


End file.
